Poem for the Season

I love the following view of early Autumn and hope you enjoy the read as well.

Halfway to Autumn By Patricia Martin Zens

September-- the mercurial time of the year when summer almost imperceptibly blends into fall.

orange globes of pumpkins begin to appear in the fields corn, suddenly wilted and denuded of their bounty.

Cornstalk tepees appear, and with a little imagination one can see the ghost of autumn- colored Indians dancing in the fields. Bugs begin wandering sluggishly through the air. Sun slants at a different angle and becomes almost opaque with a film that that predicts October. Geese fly a jagged V in a vibrant bright blue sky and below are autumn bonfires.

September is transition, halfway to autumn. Birds migrate and even a small yard with a modest

stand of trees can provide small amounts of wonder at natures variety.

Purple martins with criss - crossed tails, string out along telephone lines. Warblers alight briefly, one of many feathered transients, as robins start to disappear. Flower box plants begin to wither and are replaced by puffs

of chrysanthemums…yellow-white, lavender, amber and deep burgundy.

Storm windows are resurrected from the attic or basement.

Swim suits for heavier jackets and hoods. Summer has not quite surrendered to a dipping mercury, but the gentle breeze of colder weather haunts days moving towards the autumn equinox.

The first frost stops suddenly the verdure of summer.

Leaves, which were a short while ago moist and green, curl and become brittle with autumn.

The leaf shapes are endless: the hand-shaped oak; the jagged teeth of the silver maple, the oval of the yellow birch…

now curl and discolor, become ochre and lifeless against advancing chill air. S

unsets once glorious become flickering and brief.

The hours of sunny times are numbered: the countdown to winter has begun.

Trees stand in long suffering as winter wantonly whips their foliage away.

Nature’s march is inexorable: season meets season; the new season replaces the old with certainty. Summer melts into autumn and becomes a hazy memory of sun spent days.

Autumn takes over Its harbingers are plainly here: earlier nightfall, chillier air school-day gear.

The time of battening down has begun. Grass no longer green, but hay colored.

Flowers are no longer bright, but fading.

The dog somnolently seeks a quiet corner.

The wind has a sharper whistle ,the sun, a weaker warmth.

The growing chill invigorates, but is not unmixed with nostalgia of summer.

September … A time of fruition and a time of subtle change.

Harvest at its height …the year comes around to maturity; growth climaxes in nature’s bounty.

September … the doorway to autumn.

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